i love you (no matter what)
by halcyon epochs
Summary: When Hermione finds Ron cheating on her with an old flame, she dumps him and storms out into the rain, shattered and broken. However, she may find love again faster than she thinks. Sirimione, not recommended for Romione shippers.


**Writing Club**

Disney Challenge - Jasmine - Write about a pure blood who wants to marry for love, not duty.

Amber's Attic - Orion Black

Showtime - No Good Deed - (word) Attention

Days of the Month - Umbrella Day - Write a fic set in a rainstorm

Count your Buttons - (word) Bath

Lyric Alley - 29. It doesn't matter what is out there.

TV Show of the Month - Seeley Booth - (dialogue) "There's more than one kind of family.", (item) rifle, (character) Sirius Black

Liza's Loves - Salty Dog - Write about Sirius Black

Jenny's Jovial Quotations - "Rain is one thing the British do better than anybody else." - Marilyn French

 **Other Challenges**

Serpent Day - Hoop Snake - (object) mug

Scavenger Hunt - Write a fic featuring Hermione as a main character

Insane House Challenge - 555. (Plot Point) Getting over an ex

I Dare You to Write Challenge - (character) Sirius Black, (color) mustard yellow, (item) notebook

* * *

"Hermione, please, be reasonable—"

"I hate you!" she screams, fists clenched and her face blotchy with scarlet. Her hair is an unruly disaster and her eyes are flaming. Lavender cowers while Ron flinches.

"Hate is an extreme word, don't you think?" Ron tries, but Hermione is absolutely _done._ She goes straight for the kill.

"We're finished!" she cries. "I never want to see you or that _tramp_ ever again!"

At this point, everyone is in shambles. Ron attempting futilely to recover what was lost and placate Hermione, Lavender torn between the right decision and the desirable one, and Hermione—her entire world is shattered, fragmented, her memories and love for Ron eradicated. Everything has been ripped away from her.

She's breathing heavily as all of them search for words, and then the tension is broken when she storms out, waving her wand. Her belongings daren't disobey her and fly into her beaded purse.

It's storming outside, ironically enough. Her umbrella is lost among her numerous possessions, and with a frustrated sigh, she casts a Repelling Charm above her head and steps out into the downpour.

"You look like you could use some help."

Hermione screeches in surprise. The voice comes from her left and she swivels her head. She regrets it immediately, or at least somewhat.

A man looks back at her with evident concern. He's handsome, in a windswept, rugged way. His ebony hair is long and falls just below his broad shoulders. His eyes are a piercing silver and his cheekbones are perfectly shaped—in other words, he looks like someone straight out of a fairytale. The Prince Charming.

The man smirks and Hermione realizes with a start what exactly she's doing—studying him intently, or what someone less intellectual might call it—ogling him.

"That Repelling Charm looks unsteady—it might break any second," he points out. "As we say, 'Rain is the one thing the British do better than anybody else'—so here, take my umbrella."

Hermione is too stunned to accept, and true to the stranger's words, her charm cracks. The rain drenches her, but at least the sudden chill that overcomes her body is enough to jerk out of her shock.

"Thank you," she says graciously, trying to recollect what was left of her dignity—she must seem unsightly, soaked to the bone and eyes bloodshot from crying. "But how did you know about—are you—?"

"—your kind? Yes," he amends for her, "and bloody proud of it. C'mere."

Hermione can't believe her luck. What are the odds she meets a wizard both benevolent and attractive? Her luck must be turning in her favor, finally.

Hermione releases a short laugh, scooting under the umbrella. He's in such close proximity to her, she can hear him breathing. "I'm Hermione," she musters, trying to keep her attention focused anywhere else but his gorgeousness.

"Sirius," he replies. "Now, you're in a right state—all distressed and looking like a drowned mouse. Why don't you come to my flat and grab a change of clothes? Along the way, you can tell me what happened to you to make you like this."

He continues to surprise me, she thinks wryly. She's not sure if it's humanly possible to start falling for another man the day she breaks off a long-term relationship, but if it isn't, she's just destroyed all boundaries.

Sirius takes her silence as hesitation. "I'm not a sexual predator or anything, if you're wondering."

She _was_ wondering if it was wise to allow a stranger to take her to his flat when they've only just met, but he didn't seem the least bit threatening. Quite frankly, there was more of chance she would be jumped without his company.

So she takes a leap of faith and says, "I'd love that."

* * *

The only article of clothing Sirius has that would _not_ be a dress on her is a mustard-yellow shirt. It's hideous, honestly, but Hermione dons it anyway. She takes a bath to relax herself and her worries. She uses some of Sirius's shampoo. It smells heavenly, like coconut and vanilla.

His flat is comfortable, casual, an organized chaos. He's careless with his things, since there are various garments strewn all over his bedroom (she finds out the shirt stuck to his wall was a result of alcohol and a Permanent Sticking Charm).

The only thing that unsettles her is the rifle he keeps under his bed. It makes her uncomfortable. But once he tells her it's for burglars, her anxiety is alleviated.

(He asks her playfully if she thought he was a secretly a thief or something. She won't admit that that was what was running through her head when she initially saw the weapon.)

As opposed to his bedroom, his kitchen is tidy. The spice rack is arranged alphabetically, the dishes all washed and put away, and the floors free of filth.

It's cute, actually, though Sirius plays it off. Hermione gathers that he isn't the type of man who boasts. She likes that in a man.

He boils her a mug of chamomile tea and soon they're sitting in armchairs and laughing at the stories Sirius recollects fervently. He's a dramatic storyteller, waving his arms around for emphasis and Hermione suspects he may be exaggerating the truth just to make it more entertaining.

The storm rages behind her, but Hermione is enthralled by Sirius to be frightened—almost _too_ enthralled. She doesn't notice the rain die and the clouds vanish, but Sirius does.

"The storm's over," he says randomly in the middle of one of his tales. Hermione's giggles pause and she listens, and indeed, the storm is gone.

"Wow," she says, awed. "You really know how to fascinate a girl."

"It's a gift of mine." He strides abruptly out of the room and returns a few minutes later.

"Took me a little rummaging around, but I found it," he says, presenting her a notebook. "I bought this a few weeks ago for my friend Remus, but turns out he has the exact same one. It reminded me of you."

Hermione gazes at the notebook. It's brown with an intricate spine and golden design. It's a beautiful notebook, albeit a simple one. It's a strange gift, but she's flattered in spite of that.

"It's beautiful, thank you," she says, taking it and rising, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

Sirius's eyes cloud over and he mutters, "Screw it."

Before she can ponder on what he means, his hands are on her waist and pulling her towards him. His lips slam against hers with such vigor, it almost unbalances her had it not for his hands solidly gripping her.

It takes her a few moments, but soon her lips are moving at his pace. Sirius tastes like honey and cinnamon and _oh,_ his hips grinding against hers rhythmically, and his musky cologne swirls around her, intoxicating—

Next thing she knows, their legs are moving, walking backward unsteadily. She realizes he's guiding her to his bedroom, and she doesn't protest.

They collapse on the bed, Sirius on top. Hermione hums as her hands go to work on his button-up.

He's perfection defined, she thinks, looking up at his lustful gaze.

 _He's ready for this and so am I._

They're ready to embark on the next adventure, whatever it may be, as long as they're together.

* * *

"Mother, I want to marry this girl." Sirius clasps her hand, where an engagement ring resides.

Walburga blanches. "Excuse me?" she blusters. "You want to marry a _Mudblood?_ Have you no pride in your family name? Of all dishonorable, disgraceful, dis—"

"Mother," says Sirius quietly, though his voice slices through the air like a spear, "I don't give a damn about what you think. In fact, I haven't ever. Your opinion mean nothing to me."

"Then why did you even bother informing us?" she asks imperiously.

"Because you're my parents," he says. "Despite you disowning me and throwing me out on the street, I still came back. But now I see it was just a waste of time."

His words are scathing, and Hermione can detect the pain it inflicts on her, despite her peremptory manner.

"I want to marry for love, not for honor or name," he continues. "I'm going to marry her because I want to."

"But what about us, son?" Orion's deep voice reverberates throughout the room. "We're the only family you have."

"There's more than one kind of family," Sirius says firmly, tightening his grip on Hermione's hand, and she feels nothing but pride for this selfless man. "She's all I need."

And with that cutting statement, he and Hermione turn and exit.

Once they Apparate back into Sirius's flat, Hermione drags his face down for a passionate kiss.

"You're amazing, you know," she says breathlessly, once they've surfaced for air.

Sirius's response to kiss her again.

He's a beautiful man, she thinks. She wouldn't have wanted anyone else.

* * *

 **1,491 words**


End file.
